


Nameless

by BeyondVictory



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, embarrassing dads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-08-14 03:10:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20185282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondVictory/pseuds/BeyondVictory
Summary: Death reincarnates Harry when he dies. He is reborn in the 1920’s, as a Fae-born. Fae-born are wizards and witches who lived so well in their first lives that they are reincarnated with some memories of their first life.Harry is reborn as Erevan Prewett on June 2nd, 1926. As he grows up memories of his first life come back to him, and he is taken to St. Mungo’s where he is confidentially diagnosed as Fae-born, unbeknownst to all but his parents. He is homeschooled and travels with his parents around the world until the age of 17, when enough of his memories have come back to him that he finally decides what to do.Armed with this knowledge and burdened by a complicated sense of self, Erevan (Harry) must decide how he wants to shape the world this time around.(Note: Because I still want there to be plenty of time at Hogwarts, I’ve adjusted ages/years a bit. Erevan/Harry and Tom are both 17 but are heading into their fifth year. Hogwarts ends at age 19).Also, please check out my other fanfiction, which is Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover (Dean Winchester/Tom Riddle)





	1. Prologue

Erevan’s eyes were closed. He lay on his back, facing the sky. The sea air was intoxicating; it always helped him meditate, helped him see Harry’s memories. His memories. 

Growing up Fae-Born had not been easy, neither for him or for his parents. Luckily, he was an only child and his parents were well off enough to afford traveling. They had wanted to avoid suspicion; Fae-Born were rare and drew the attention of those who would know the potential future of the world so they could profit from it. Traveling had also been recommended by St. Mungo’s; it seemed more likely to trigger memories from his past life, and lead him to have the spiritual and emotional development that would help him make good choices. 

Erevan had had plenty of adventures during his life abroad. He had ridden Elephant Koi off the island of Hokkaido, had made friends with wild hippogriffs, and had been chased out of and banned from setting toe in more business establishments than he could either count or remember. It turned out that toy stores were very touchy about what one did with their giant crayon displays. Muggles really did attach themselves to the most random things. 

To socialize him with his peers he had been allowed to spend two years at Beauxbatons and one year at Durmstrang, a rare privilege for an outsider. It had given his parents a much needed break from travel as well. He’d made good friends at both but he was ready to leave when it was over. He could always visit later on. 

And, it had been hard as he got into his teen years. By then more memories of Harry Potter’s life were bleeding into his consciousness. It had become difficult for Erevan to separate fact from fiction, and truth be told, he still didn’t know who he was on the inside. More and more the two lives seemed like one, though the connect was thin during his early years, before the memories started surfacing.

He had been kept away from Hogwarts until he could say that he definitively understood Harry’s life events and what potential damages he might inflict upon the future by being there. But it felt as though time was running out, and more and more he felt drawn to the school, though he had no plan. 

Breathing deeply, he opened his eyes and sat up. They had been brown when he was a little boy, but as his connection to his past life deepened they became purple, the same as any other mature Fae-Born in history. His skin was tan from his time spent outdoors and at the sea, but his hair remained black even in the Meditteranean sun. His shoulders were broad; he had a muscular build, very different from his father. It had made him uncomfortable after puberty; he felt too subtle and complex for such a body. He would have preferred to be thin. For all that he was outgoing and adventurous, he still felt like disappearing sometimes. Life was complicated.

He stood and turned away from the beach, towards the place where his family was camped. Life was complicated but good.


	2. Ends and Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erevan sets out and Tom is shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is totally unbetaed and unedited. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Forgot to mention: Nigel and Marian Prewett are totally based off the parents in the Wild Thornberrys
> 
> I don't own Harry Potter

It was still early, the sun only having risen an hour ago. Erevan's family was camped on a beach near Rio de Janeiro. Prior to the war they had traveled more in Eurasia, but the whole of that continent was aflame with conflict. 

Arriving at their camp, he wandlessly and wordlessly let himself through the wards. He had been a protégé growing up, and the more memories of his past life that came forth the more he fell into his power. Still, their were gaps in his education, particularly in theory and history, both of which required more structure. His parents did their best, but his dad was a bit of a goofball and his mum was very relaxed. 

Nigel and Marian Prewett were industrious people. While their son ran amuck locally and had adventures, they spent their time investigating local wildlife, having been inspired by the works of Newt Scamander. There were plenty of towns that either they or their son had been seen out of by local authorities for shenanigans having gotten out if hand, though the Prewett family was a strongly Light family and tried to be a source of good in the world. 

Already awake, his parents had already started a fire and were cooking up a breakfast of sausage and rice. Erevan's stomach rumbled, announcing his arrival. Peering at him from his place above the cast iron, Nigel crowed, "Good morning poppet! Out for a bit of a stroll were you?" He practically sang every time he spoke, his accent stronger than most. 

Marian, who took longer to wake up, merely smiled at her son. 

Erevan smiled back, genuinely glad to see them. He was close with his parents, and as time went on he theorized it had to do with his past life as Harry had never known his own parents, but knew that they had loved him. In this life Erevan fully embraced his role as a son, albeit one in a highly unconventional family. It hadn't stopped him from being a free spirit like his dad, Nigel. 

"Mum, dad," he said softly. The glow of dawn was too soft to speak more loudly. 

They both froze, aware that their son had something important to say. Often quiet and steady, their son nevertheless had moments of dry humor and flippant comedy. This was not one of those moments. 

He sat across the fire from them. "I think I've figured out my next step." 

They listened raptly as he described what he was feeling and what memories had come to him in this particular set of dreams. Though still far from complete, he had a better and better idea of Harry's life all the time. 

Convincing them to let him go to Hogwarts was the hard part, however. So much of Harry's life has been centered there. They worried that any changes, major or minor, would have strong reverberations across the future. They also worried about him. Hogwarts was where he, "Tommy-lad" as Nigel put it, was. Erevan argued that that was why he had to go. More answers would reveal themselves there. Maybe there were things Harry didn't know. Harry had lived decades later, after all.

Eventually they agreed to his terms, under the condition that they pull him out straight away if things started to look dodgy. The family embraced. Though they'd never known a steady home they had each other, and time apart was hard. 

They took an international floo to Britain several weeks later, right before school. The landing was always harder than domestic; considering the distance traveled, this was not a surprise. Arriving in Diagon Alley, they set about collecting Erevan's school supplies. They had gotten in touch with Edward Kingsbury, their contact at the department of mysteries. He had met with Headmaster Armando Dippet and Deputy Headmaster Albus Dumbledore to explain a little of Erevan's situation. Not much was revealed, however; the meeting revolved around an order from the Ministry itself not to question Erevan closely and to support him if he needed it. In many affairs the Ministry would have meddled further, but where Fae-born were concerned a higher power was considered to be involved, and the ministry had learned decades ago to know its place in the web of fate. 

Erevan loved Diagon Alley, and Britain on the whole. Traveling was brilliant in its own way, but he felt he had an affinity for these rainy islands of the north. Diagon Alley was always busy and fun, even during these grim war years. 

His mother, however, hated crowds, and his dad was notorious for stirring up trouble just by being his jolly go lucky self. They deigned to remain in The Leaky Cauldron for the day. 

Inhaling deeply, Erevan stepped out onto the crowded street. 

Tom was studiously ignoring his classmates and underlings as they chirped endlessly about books, clothes, and people. Normally they were easier to control and keep quiet, but today he let them have at it. At least the gossip was interesting. 

Adam Avery and Richard Lestrange stood further down the aisle from him in Flourish and Blotts. They spoke excitedly about this year's defense classes; fifth year was the year they finally got to try their hand at dark magic. Defensively, of course. 

Tom refrained from rolling his eyes. He had, of course, been practicing on his own these past years. In spite of his best efforts to instill otherwise, his lackeys had yet to grasp that they could teach themselves new magic, they did not have to wait for classroom instruction for Merlin's sake. Unable to stand their presence any longer and quietly disappointed that they had no interesting dirt to spill on students and professors, he left the shop. His silent retreat would be a severe reprimand once they noticed. 

He stepped out into the daylight, and his life was forever changed.


	3. A Stroll in the Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for harassment and general nasty behavior. It's fairly brief, though

Before he set out, Nigel had checked Erevan’s glamour. As Erevan was now no longer allowed to do magic outside of school, he suddenly found himself reliant on his parents for such things. They were all masters at this kind of magic, having found glamours useful during their travels and many adventures. His parents found them particularly useful in approaching wild creatures. Still, with Erevan going so far from his side and with glamour magic still in its infancy, Nigel settled for a simple version. The priority was adjusting Erevan’s eye color so that strangers did not learn his status, and so the glamour changed his eyes from violet to blue and had made him less handsome. It was an easy switch.

Everything set, he made his way toward Flourish and Blott, in need of his fifth year textbooks. 

On his way over, he noticed a commotion over by a vendor selling enchanted jewelry on the street. A bold business venture to undertake out in the open, he surmised that the seller must be in dire straits. Not one to snub his own curiosity, he cautiously headed in the direction of the noise. 

A thin, tall man with silvery hair was bickering with the vendor, a young dark haired woman who looked to be in her twenties. 

“That’s what is costs!” She pleaded desperately. He held an amulet in his left hand. In his right, he held his wand. The woman clearly wanted him to hand it over. 

The man sneered, his handsomeness marred by his nasty expression.

“I hardly think it’s worth 120 galleons,” he said. “A filthy Mudblood like you should be willing to accept anything.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

A nasty, sick chill ran up and down Erevan’s spine. Several in the crowd jeered at the woman, who shrank back, afraid. 

Feeling a storm gather inside himself, Erevan stepped forward. Memories of the various muggleborn witches and wizards he’d met on his travels surged in his mind, and even more distantly came memories of Hermione. He would not let this stand. 

As he came face to face with the vendor and the nasty man, he drew his wand. It felt like his body was moving independent of his mind, and slowly. His body filled with righteous anger and with it, magic. The very air seemed to crackle, and it felt as though the thunder that was Erevan would crack and boom across the square. The nasty man’s face paled even further, if even that was possible. 

Suddenly, Erevan felt a twinge of regret. He knew that this would only cause him trouble, possibly blowing his cover or even getting him prematurely expelled from Hogwarts. Before he could figure out a better solution, a voice sounded, “What in Merlin’s name is going on?”

A cool ripple went through Erevan, followed by a rising warmth from the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath but did not relax his wand arm. Instead, he risked a glance to his left, following the voice to its source.

There stood a man--Tom Riddle, to be precise--who was handsomer than any Erevan had ever seen in this life. Erevan gulped. Harry’s memories had not prepared him for this. Tom was dark, sinister, and brimming with power. He was the dark to Erevan’s light. And he was currently staring at Erevan with the most peculiar of expressions. A mixture of curiosity, wonder, and contempt. Typical Tom, Erevan reasoned.

The young man in question cleared his throat. “Well?” he prompted.

Erevan finally lowered his wand as the blond man blanched. “My lord--Tom--I--” the man fell silent at the look that Tom gave him. Clearly he was not to address his master so in public. So there’s still time, thought Erevan. For...whatever I’m going to come up with. He wasn’t sure how, but he was determined to stop Voldemort before he began. Grindelwald had already poisoned the world with his ideas, but if only he could stop Tom from carrying it forward…

Speaking of which, said wizard was staring at Erevan as if he were simple. Erevan cleared his own throat and blurted out, “He started it.” Tom’s eyebrows shot up, and Erevan felt his face turning red. 

Turning to the nasty man, Tom said softly, “Come, Abraxas.” The man in question hung his head slightly and followed his master through the crowd, which suddenly began to disperse. It was as if they too followed Tom’s command. 

The young stall owner thanked Erevan profusely for the intervention, though she clearly did not understand the strange man before her, nor his intentions. She tried to offer him jewelry, which he politely refused. Suddenly very self conscious after exposing himself so aggressively, Erevan hurried to the book shop, eager to be off the street. 

\---------------------  
Tom didn’t know what to make of the boy who had held Abraxas at wand’s length. The boy was plain looking and seemed unsure of what he was doing, but Tom could not deny that he was powerful. Still, nothing irritated him like untapped potential. He went to school with a number of students who were gifted, powerful, and privileged, but threw it all away for a lazy life of luxury and, even worse, love. 

Even more unsettling was the uncanny sense of familiarity that radiated from the boy. He looked at Tom as though he were a long lost...something. Even worse, Tom felt something towards him. The boy was at once his enemy, desire, and equal. No, thought Tom darkly, never equal.

With Abraxas still slinking along behind him, Tom led him to a quiet part of Knockturn Alley that was not going to remain quiet for long. Abraxas Malfoy was going to learn once again the cost of defying his Lord in public.


	4. Really Nigel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Erevan meet again
> 
> Nigel ruins everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ery" (Erevan's nickname) is pronounced like "airy"
> 
> Also apologies if you haven't seen the Wild Thornberrys (again, Nigel is based on Nigel Thornberry) It's easier to understand what he'd sound like if you're familiar.

After a long afternoon of shopping Erevan had an early dinner with his parents at the Leaky Cauldron. They sat down to a meal of potatoes, roast, and vegetables. Nigel’s gregarious and loud ways soon attracted the attention of the entire bar, and soon after he had everyone roaring with laughter at a supposed romance story between a nargle and a blue whale.

“Dreadful thing, that, when the two come smashing together for a breach!” he finished.

Caught up in the roar of laughter that followed, Erevan didn’t notice the young man make his way through the chaos over to his table. Suddenly he felt a light tap on his shoulder and looked up.

Oh, fuck, he thought. 

Tom stood before him, magnificent as ever, but in a nice looking muggle uniform. From the orphanage, perhaps? Erevan blinked and reddened. He wasn’t supposed to know about that. And he also wasn’t supposed to be so distracted by Tom’s dashing good looks. Merlin, the man was handsome. Shifting uncertainly, he felt his glamour waver. The warmth of the room combined with having had a long day was making it difficult for Nigel to maintain the spell. 

He saw surprise flit across Tom’s face. It passed quickly, and he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if you would join me for a moment?” The Slytherin asked softly, somehow managing to be heard perfectly over the din.

“Um, yeah,” said Erevan, thinking quickly. Wanting to buy himself more time, he asked, “How’s your friend? Abraxas, was he?”

Tom’s face darkened. Erevan bit back a smile, though he knew his eyes danced with laughter. He knew better than to reveal so much or needle Tom, but it was late and he was warm and well fed. Discipline and self control were definitely his thing in this life, apparently. 

Standing, he tilted his head in the direction of his room. “Follow me.” He did not have to glance back to know that Tom was frowning at the implicit command.

Arriving in the room, Erevan ushered him in and closed the door. 

“How can I be of service to you, Mr. Riddle?” He asked politely. Tom straightened. “I wanted to thank you for your assistance today. Without your timely intervention, my associate surely would have caused harm. And while I do believe him to have a good heart, his ways tend to be a little...zealous around political issues.”

Erevan’s temper flared, as did his magic. “Politics? You mean the existence of a muggleborn woman qualifies as political in this day and age?!” Tom frowned, probably recalculating. 

“I admit, he overstepped his bounds.” He said evenly. “There’s even a chance there was no provocation--”

“Get out!” Erevan snarled angrily, entirely losing his cool and forgetting reason for the second time that day. “I’ve no time for this.”

Tom threw his shoulders back. “I will not! We are not done discussing upcoming business.”

“Upcoming business?” Threw back Erevan. “We have no upcoming business! The only business we are having will you taking your business and taking it out of my room. Right now.”

In spite of himself Tom smiled slightly. “That...didn’t even make sense.” He said, with a trace of a laugh. 

Getting ahold of himself, Ereven took a deep breath and said, “That was very rude of you, you know.” Seeing Tom swell up like a snake he held up his hand and said, “The thing about her having caused it. You know damn well that it was Abraxas who started it.”

At that moment, the door swung open to reveal a red faced and very cheerful (and more than a little drunk) Nigel Prewett. “Oh there you are, poppet! And who is this lovely gentleman you have here? Surely you weren’t going to, oh, bespoil my dear lad now were you?” Seeing their horrified faces he chuckled loudly. “Oh, I’m only pulling on your chain so to speak, deary! Though once you’re over eighteen it wouldn’t do any harm to take a tumble every once and a while.”

Erevan’s face went brick red. Even Tom’s cheeks were tinged with pink.

“Da…” He said beseechingly. 

Tom turned to Erevan and stuck out his hand. “I will see you on the Hogwarts Express.” He announced formally. “I invite you to sit with me and my friends. It would be my honor to get to know you better, Mr. Prewett.”

Erevan was grateful that the situational meltdown seemed to be at an end, but then suddenly, as Tom turned away, Nigel called cheerfully, “That’s the spirit, lad! You know my little Ery will be 18 come next June! Do ring by for a shag.” Tom stopped and paused for several seconds. He wisely chose to keep walking (escaping), leaving Erevan to fume at his dad for fuddling the righteous tirade he’d been about to have with the future Dark Lord.


	5. Off to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much in this one, sorry everyone. The next one will have more substance to it.

Tom returned to the orphanage, still struggling not to blush. So much for high class purebloods! The Prewetts were a family of animals, he thought savagely. First there was Erevan, picking a fight in the street like a lowborn rat. Then he had the nerve to chastise Tom, later after said fight. And Mr. Prewett, Head of House Prewett, was an absolute disgrace--

Tom breathed deeply, trying to still himself. He sat down on his bed, alone in a shared room. The other boys had learned a long time ago not to bother him. 

He needed to calm down. In spite of his gains in favorability among some of the pureblood families, he still had a ways to go. The Prewetts were one of the sweetest plums that could fall into his lap. Admittedly the family was known for its eccentric ways, but they were powerfully and well known for being Light. If he could only find a way to sway them to his cause, it would make him appear as far less of a threat, allowing him to worm his way further into the Ministry. They were also incredibly wealthy, the late matriarch of the family having invested heavily into the muggle machine industry. 

And then there was the heir, Erevan. He was known to be powerful--and Tom had felt that power, just now in the pub. He frowned, thinking about their first encounter before in the street. He’d felt almost nothing from the boy. That had been Tom’s weakness; he should have probed further to feel for the boy’s power. That he could hide power at such a young age was a rare gift indeed. That he had such power was rarer still. 

Thinking about what was at stake, Tom gritted himself and stood. 

He had a boy to win, one way or another.

\---------------------

Erevan’s last day with his family dawned bright and beautiful. The September air was crisp and the leaves were just starting to turn. They made their way to King’s Cross station in silence, with even Nigel anxious about saying goodbye. 

Arriving at the platform, Erevan was at a loss. Though excited to experience Hogwarts, he always dreaded saying goodbye. He was adventurous, true, but also very close with his parents. They were his home, and even his years at other schools had been trying. His mother’s eyes were tearing up, and Nigel bawled outright, his words incomprehensible through his violent sobs. Eventually he made out something about how time moved too quickly and he could already hear the sound of “little grand poppets.” 

With only a few minutes to spare, Erevan was unsure of how to extricate himself and get on the train. Suddenly, a young man with golden short cropped hair and a handsome face appeared beside him. 

“Hello,” he greeted warmly. “I’m Aaron Avery. I can see that you’re new. Fancy sitting with me and my friends?” 

Relieved, Erevan swiftly bade his parents goodbye and took off, not daring to look back lest he himself begin to cry. That was the last thing he needed on his first day. 

\---------------------

Erevan followed his new companion down the hallway of the train to one of the most forward compartments. All of which were conspicuously Tom-free. Erevan’s stomach did a flip, though he couldn’t tell if it was from dread or anticipation. Though he’d fought Voldemort in his past life, he didn’t understand his enemy’s younger self. Every interaction with Tom was unpredictable and new. Erevan liked that. It was a chance to live a fresh life, somehow.

Of course they’d sit in the front of the train, he thought grimly, suddenly sobering up as they arrived at the compartment. Pureblood prats. Of course they’ll be the first ones off.   
He sighed, stepping into the compartment.


	6. New Frenemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW for a mind altering potion gone wrong and some of the things that go with that (no non-con)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to live on the edge and haven't even proofread this once

Erevan entered the compartment to find Tom and his Slytherin cronies already there. Tom introduced the newcomer to his friends and vice versa. Erevan sat down, trying to hide his nerves, and trying not to behave strangely. The last thing he needed was for Tom to think something was amiss about him and begin investigating. It was doubtful he would learn the truth, but although slim the chance was terrible. 

The conversation turned on him almost immediately. Luckily, once calm talking was something he could do well. He captivated them with tales of all the places he had been, and of the people he had met and his adventures with them. Even Tom was impressed, though admittedly jealous of all the traveling. Having no parents and no money did not lend itself well to such things. The others decided that they liked Erevan, though he seemed most un-Slytherin. He was funny and seemed outgoing, but only Tom knew better. He knew not to underestimate such people, though a Slytherin who used such tactics was rare. 

Finally a pause was reached, and Lestrange took it upon himself to serve refreshments. “Tea?” he asked, not daring to give anything away by looking knowingly at Tom.

Everyone partook, and the stranger did not notice the two drops of potion that were slipped into his cup. A simple brew, meant to make him more docile and likely to follow the next strong personality he came across. Which of course, was meant to be Tom.

But Erevan’s countenance changed, and not in a way that Tom was expecting. The potion was supposed to be mild, the first of a series, and should not have even been noticeable. The boy’s eyes dilated and his smile became slightly more infectious. It wasn’t supposed to have that effect, unless….

“Lestrange,” he hissed, as Erevan began rounding off the eleven species of bullfrog necessary for a solstice calming ritual. 

“Lestrange,” Tom repeated, “Are you sure you brewed it properly?”

Lestrange flushed, himself unsure. He hadn’t been careful, as his Lord had given him only a short notice and he had had to pack as well. He hadn’t been careful in the stirring, and he wasn’t sure if those had really been newt eggs in his kit. He’d been hopeful that such a simple brew would be forgiving.

Apparently, it wasn’t.

Ignoring the new boy, Tom questioned his lackey closely on what had gone wrong. Swearing loudly, he suddenly realized a strange sensation on the top of his head. 

Someone was petting him.

Someone adorable, and mysterious, and infuriating. Someone he already didn’t like but couldn’t be away from.

“So soft,” Erevan whispered with awe. Then, looking Tom dead in the eye, he proclaimed somberly, “You should be a carpet.”

\---------------------

Getting Erevan off the train without causing a fuss was not easy. The boy seemed resistant to any spell meant to calm him, and became disturbingly touchy the longer the effects wore on. Especially as far as Tom was concerned. 

They sent Avery on ahead for help, though before even five minutes had passed, Professor Dumbledore appeared. As if things couldn’t get any worse.

“My my, what seems to be the trouble?” he asked in a gentle, grandfatherly sort of way. Tom’s suspicions flared instantly.

“He got ahold of something he wasn’t supposed to and we’re not sure what’s in it.” Lestrange declared proudly, as if it were Erevan’s fault. He was an idiot, Tom mused, but at least feigned arrogance came easily to him. As did real arrogance most of the time.

Dumbledore’s eyebrows shot up at that. As he was a man who showed little emotion other than geniality and good humor, this was a damning condemnation indeed. 

“Oh?” He asked, all falseness gone. “And just what was it he consumed?”

Tom took a short breath and said, “It was in his tea, professor. It was just a love potion. A mild one, as a prank. We wanted to see if he would fall in love with Lestrange.” He shot Lestrange a look that managed to be poisonous and amused all at once.

Dumbledore turned back to Lestrange, clearly intent on questioning him further, when Erevan finally broke his silence.

Tom closed his eyes. He knew he would never live this day down.

“Don’t worry professor, they just wanted me to have another boyfriend!” Said Erevan cheerfully. If possible, Dumbeldore’s eyebrows seemed to disappear further into his hairline.

“Oh?” he asked.

“Yeah!” the boy answered excitedly, “I’ve got lots of boyfriends. Loads of them. Like 56.”

A hint of a smile formed on the professor’s face. He cleared his throat. “Are you sure you’re of a mature enough age to accept all of the suitors? How old are you, Erevan?”

The boy hesitated, no longer brimming with optimism. He seemed to sense he had misstepped and was now in trouble.

But surely, thought Tom, this couldn’t get any worse.

“96,” Erevan finally answered.


	7. New But Uncharted Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erevan wakes up. The next chapter will be longer.

Erevan came to slowly. Opening his eyes, he realized he was in a familiar room, but one he hadn't seen in this life. 

Suddenly he sat bolt upright. What was going on? Was he Harry? Was Erevan's life just a dream? Looking down he immediately recognized that this body was not the one he had had as Harry. 

Memories flooded back to him of being on a train. Of Avery, then Tom and Lestrange. And Dumbledore. 

He groaned, putting his head in his hands. He suddenly heard a low chuckle. Looking to his left, he saw his new Transfiguration professor standing in the aisle between beds. Beaming, Dumbledore approached. 

"I've been curious about this mysterious Prewett boy, I must say." He admitted. "I was curious to see what he was like. Was he Light, like all the other Prewetts, or Dark, an anomaly, but still accepted and whisked away by parents who no doubt love him anyway?"

He paused next to Erevan's bed. "I am not a Divination expert Erevan, but I believe that you have as much power to save as you do to doom. Would you agree?"

Erevan nodded, dumbstruck. No doubt his glamour had worn off, leaving him entirely visible to the whole world. His heart sank. Tom almost certainly knew he was Fae-born by now.

Dumbledore hummed. "I must admit that I am curious. Fae are a rare birth cycle indeed, often straddling time in ways we cannot understand. I will not pry, but know that if there is ever anything I can do to help, or, even more exciting, share about your experiences, my door is always open. 

"Now down to business. It has only been a few hours since you were cured of whatever was in that potion. Unfortunately you have missed the feast, and the sorting with it. We were unsure if when you would wake and I have to admit, curiosity got the better of me. We placed the hat on you anyway."

His eyes, which always sparkled, practically glowed with delight. 

"You have been placed into Slytherin."

Erevan's eyes widened in shock but be didn't have it in him to swear. Dumbledore's amusement seemed to grow, and he said, "Not all who go through their time in Hogwarts wearing green are evil. I do not know what you have experienced or heard of Slytherin, but you will have friends there, dear boy."

His eyes became distant for a moment, and then he came back to himself, blinking.

"Listen to me! Giving advice to someone no doubt both older and wiser, in your own way. I must be off, before I embarrass myself further." He paused as he turned, growing somber, "As you have no doubt noticed, the glamour you were wearing fell away in your drugged state. I would have punished those responsible, but as Slytherins they fall outside of my power in situations such as this."

Erevan grimaced but nodded. It would be less stressful this way, not having to work to hide it. And at Hogwarts he was safe from kidnapping and interrogation, even from Grindelwald. Still, after graduation could be a problem.

He shivered. At this, Dumbledore smiled kindly and finally took his leave.


	8. Thoughtful Spot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been so long! This work and my other are not abandoned, I promise. Life has been crazy this fall.

Tom stared out the window of the Astronomy Tower. Few realized there was another room in the very top--it was hidden by illusion magic, passable only by the subtle few. The window he looked out of appeared to be roof to any onlookers below. 

It was his favorite place to come and be. Here was where he thought, plotted, and worked. The room was clean and bright. It gave his mind clarity as well. Most would have assumed he would prefer somewhere dank and dark, but he loved being up high. He loved the light, and even the birds weren’t so annoying. Not that he would ever let anyone know that.

He was at a loss for how to proceed. Of all things, he had never expected this, that the strange boy would be Fae. It all made sense though, everything falling into place. Why the boy had been on the move all his life. Why he was so strange. Why he hid his own power.

Smiling, he crafted a plan. A plan for domination, for bringing Erevan over to his side. With a partner like that, he would be unstoppable. Filled with purpose, he crossed the room and left to face the day. 

Standing on the other side of the door stood a man dressed in the formal robes of the Ministry.

The robes of an Auror.

“Finally,” the man muttered. He raised his wand, which Tom noticed too late. 

“Obliviate.”


	9. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY I HAD THIS WRITTEN BUT GOT BEFUDDLED AND THEN I WENT ON A BIG TRIP THEN THANKSGIVING HAPPENED AND ANYWAY I AM BACK KITTENS

Dumbledore couldn’t stop frowning as he surveyed the Great Hall on the first day of school. It was breakfast time, and it looked to be a cold crisp day outside. He was decidedly uncomfortable with the Aurors’ decision to obliviate his students. He understood the reasoning, and though he was relieved to have Tom Riddle in the dark again, he knew that mind magic was dangerous. Memories were only partially understood, and Aurors weren’t known for their delicate hand. He sighed, resigning himself to a reality he couldn’t alter.

The only thing that put him even partially at ease was Erevan, who was sitting among his fellow Slytherins. The boy looked far more comfortable than he would have even a day ago. Albus could only put that down to the fact that he was again anonymous, and that an even more powerful glamour had been laid down through a necklace given by the Department of Mysteries. His eyes were an oddly familiar green. Dumbledore couldn’t place it, but the color seemed to suit the boy. He was handsomer than under his own glamour, though not as striking as he was without it. The one ripple in Dumbledore’s comfort was the way that Tom kept looking at him. It was subtle, unnoticeable for most, but still there. The other boys were talking animatedly with the newcomer, who seemed to be good at steering conversation. It was hard to decipher what was real and what was an act though. 

Albus sighed and looked away. Yes indeed, this was out of his hands.

\---------------------

A great weight was gone from Erevan’s chest. That morning, the aurors had come to explain to him that they had been sent from the Department of Mysteries. Apparently some sort of reading had been done, and it wasn’t in everyone’s interest (so they said) for the students to know his identity yet. So, the ones with direct knowledge were obliviated, and everyone else was subjected to a schoolwide befuddlement charm that turned his being Fae into a muddied rumor. And his glamour had been restored and upgraded, all of this buying him time.

He left the Hospital Wing and went straight to breakfast. He fought to control his smile as he sat down with the Slytherins. He still had mixed feelings about being in this house, but was so glad for the change of events. 

The other Slytherins asked him questions about his life, seeming painfully enthused to know more. Lestrange, Avery, and a Malfoy girl in his year all pressed most eagerly. The others hung back, seeming to hang on every word about the new boy. 

Tom for his part did his best to feign disinterest, though Erevan could see him glance his way more than once. He did his best to ignore his old enemy, instead focusing on those at hand. 

When breakfast ceased a small group offered to escort him to their first class, which was Transfiguration. They all looked rather theatrically to Tom to lead the way, and with that, they were off.


End file.
